Bringing all of Myself to the Party.

I really do love writing this blog. And I think it’s because I get to bring all of myself to the party. It’s become a place of self-revelation, a place to integrate all the very many parts of my/ourselves.

You see, we’re all composed of so many streams and textures, shades and nuances.

For example, most of the people I know, know me as a teacher. And most of the people I teach, know, through my pitiful attempts at Arabic, that I’ve travelled a bit. My students also know, through the topics I teach, that I go off on one a bit when the conversation turns to racial injustice and Empire.

Some of my work colleagues know that I used to teach and practice yoga and a few that I used to teach and practice meditation. Some of my yoga students knew that I write novels, and some of my meditation students, that I was a keen student of psychology. Some groups of my friends know that I write and perform music and, a smaller circle, that I struggle with anxiety and panic attacks. Almost nobody knows that I blog.

Most of my family know that I’ve struggled to find enduring and meaningful work and that money has often been a stumbling block. Some of them know that I haven’t actually put my dreams to bed (yet).

But this blog, this abstract, disembodied, virtual platform is the only place where I’ve been able to articulate the breadth and depth of my heart.

In silence.

Knowing that no one’s looking.

I used to think it was an ego trip, a sort of show-boating to want to articulate all of myself. Then I was reminded of a quote by paediatric psychoanalyst, D.W. Winnicott.

It is a joy to be hidden, and a disaster not to be found.

D. W. Winnicott

And it’s here that I get to do both.

Be hidden…and, at length…hopefully…

Be found.